


Words of Love

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Boys In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Love Poems, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Victor is used to being the one comforting, not being comforted.But obviously if Yuuri treats him like this, he isn't complaining.(OR, alternately, Victor Nikiforov is just really really in love.)





	Words of Love

**Author's Note:**

> What up this is the first thing I've written for the gay ice bois so hopefully my characterization is okay
> 
> They are so fucking in love I want to diE
> 
> Tumblr: goldenlanternss

It was nice to be able to hold someone else every night, to be near them, safe and warm and loved. But at times like this Victor couldn't help but feel unfathomably grateful to whatever sort of divine being existed.

It wasn't uncommon for Yuuri to wake up from nightmares, of failing his family, of the onsen shutting down, of Vicchan passing again, of him falling over and over on the ice. Sometimes even, he confessed, of Victor leaving him.

But Victor learned how to handle those dreams, the small differences in Yuuri's crying over different things. He knew that Yuuri liked to be held, but not cooed at, and if Makkachin would just sleep near him that made any hurt a thousand times better.

Yuuri would stick his chin out if he wanted to be kissed as a comfort, calming after a few chaste presses to his lips.

These were things that Victor knew, that were familiar. He genuinely enjoyed being a source of peace and comfort to his fiancee, not that he liked seeing Yuuri in pain, but if he had to hurt, Victor was glad he could make it better.

That was how they worked, Yuuri would have a problem and Victor would do anything for him to fix it.

What he wasn't used to, was being the one hurting.

Victor showed him vulnerability but it always ended up being when they were both hurting. Like before the Grand Prix Final, or when Makkachin had to be hospitalized back in Japan.

He wasn't scared of Yuuri turning him away in a time of need, not at all, but the situation merely never had to be addressed. Until now.

The season was over, giving them a few months to rest back in the small apartment in St. Petersburg, days filled with quiet naps, warm intimacy and talk about plans for the future.

It was absolutely wonderful and Victor wouldn't have traded it for anything, especially when he woke up reeling from a nightmare.

Something about the bones in his ankle. Something about permanent retirement. Something about Yuuri being disappointed.

Makkachin was beside the bed, staring at him with concerned eyes and whimpering as he sat up to gather his thoughts.

Victor breathed for a moment, wiping his face, then moved the blankets to stare at both of his perfectly fine ankles in the light of dawn.

Beside him, Yuuri shifted, "Vitya?" He asked, voice gentle and rough simultaneously, "Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

Victor glanced over at the sleepy boy, hair in handsome disarray as he squinted without his glasses. Smiling as best as he could, Victor shook his head, "It's nothing, go back to sleep."

Yuuri stared at him for a moment, considering something in silence, before reaching to the older boy's cheekbone, "I love you a lot, more than anything."

That caused him to choke up a little bit, sure that Yuuri could feel the traces of tears on his skin, "I love you too." Victor croaked.

Yuuri opened his arms, moving closer in offering. Victor didn't hesitate, clinging to the slender form of his fiancee as a few more tears fell down his face and the room was illuminated by sunlight.

"They said I c-couldn't skate." Victor blabbed, sniffling with a snotty nose, "And-And you had to move on without me."

Yuuri's hold tightened, breathing out, "I would _never_ move on without you."

It was a scary and somewhat guilt inducing thought, but it was true. Neither of them would.

"Victor," They were eye to eye now, sky meeting warm chestnut, "Can you sit up for me?"

He nodded, shuffling upright on the bed, relieved when Yuuri kept one hand around him, digging for his glasses then the TV remote. The dark haired boy turned sound all the way down to five percent and flipped to the nature channel.

Victor was instantly captivated by the bright colors of a coral reef in the gray lit room, pleased when Yuuri let Makkachin cuddle up in between them on the soft comforter, resting his head on his fiancee's shoulder, "Thank you." He whispered.

Yuuri squeezed his side reassuringly, "Do you want me to go make breakfast?"

Victor hesitated. His stomach was all for the suggestion but that meant no more cuddling, at least for a few minutes.

"I'll be quick, promise." The younger skater assured him, causing the other to nod in agreement. Yuuri placed a kiss on his temple and crawled out from under the covers, bare all but Victor's shirt, pattering softly out of the room and to the kitchen.

Yuuri returned a couple of slightly lonely moments later, carefully setting a tall glass of orange juice on the bedside table and a plate of boiled eggs and toast beside it.

Victor wanted to cry. He loved boiled eggs.

Yuuri was already on the bed when he saw his fiancee's face, instantly caressing his cheeks, "Did I do something wrong? Victor, don't cry, please . . ."

"No, I--" Victor swallowed hard and pressed his lips, "I'm just . . . You're so good to me."

The other man rubbed his thumb along cheekbones, eyes getting glassy as well, "Vitya--"

"No, you, you didn't even have to ask Yuuri, you did the perfect thing and you didn't hesitate. You're so kind and selfless and beautiful in everything, you make my life a heavenly adventure to wake up to everyday and I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to explain how much you mean to me. I don't know if there's enough words in the world or love inside of me to give you what you deserve in life. I don't know if I can ever, ever repay you for the sweet love that you've showered me in, and-and, I j-just . . ." Victor wiped furiously at his eyes, "God Yuuri, I just love you _so much_."

Yuuri's cheeks were now stained with tears too, knocking Victor onto his back with a fierce hug as he curler up into the larger man, sniffling loudly, "It was just orange juice and eggs." He whined, pulling back to straighten his glasses and laugh a little.

Victor laughed too, wiping his fiancee's tears away as he returned the favor, "What can I say? I love eggs." The man gazed softly into his lover's warm brown eyes, "I'm serious you know, I mean those things with all my heart."

Yuuri smiled at him, hand on his cheek still as he moved closer to the older skater's neck, keeping eye contact but cuddling close, "Thank you Victor, really." Victor squeezed his shoulders, "You should write it down."

"Hum?" He inquired, "Write what down?"

"Your words. You could write poetry, honestly, that was beautiful."

Victor smiled a little, sighing in contentment and dropping a hand down to stroke a now quietly snoring Makkachin, "Maybe." It was nice to know that the love wasn't missed by him.

The morning continued softly from there, slow but steady as the boys got to work. Victor usually got up first and went for a run but they both decided to head out that morning, taking the route past the shops before starting for the rink. Day drug on, pleasant and peaceful, with beef and rice for dinner and a movie on the TV.

Yuuri turned to him then, glitter in his eye just like it had be all day, just like it had been in Barcelona, "I got something for you."

Victor lit up, " _Really_?"

The other man blushed, plucking up his skate bag from bedside the bed, "Well it's not anything fancy, it's just . . . A thing."

Victor's shoulders were brought up, hands clasped excitedly. He always, always loved Yuuri's presents, "What is it?"

"Um . . ." Yuuri pulled out a slim book covered in brown paper, hands shaking just slightly, "Here."

The silver haired man carefully unfolded the paper to reveal a medium sized, spiral bound notebook.

"It's a journal for your thoughts, so you can write or remember things."

Victor touched the durable gold binding, the black marble looking cover, the small elastic band. He opened it, more than pleased with the thin gray lines inside.

The other continued to ramble, anxiety increasing by the second, "The gold is for your skates and the black is because you seem to like simplistic things and it matches your kitchen counter, which, I don't know why I thought that mattered--"

"Yuuri, sweetheart, light of my life. Shut up, I love it."

He still looked hesitant, "You're sure? I can return it . . ."

"No!" Victor hugged the journal to his chest protectively, "No way, I love this one."

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing, "O-Okay, good."

He reached into the nightmare drawer and pulled out a pen happily, holding out the blank first page and thinking, "What should I write?"

"You don't have to write anything now, forcing usually doesn't work with these things. Write something when you think of it." Yuuri advised, still a little pink as he brushed some of his inky hair out of his face.

"Right, right, of course . . ." Victor agreed, setting the notebook down on the bed, still watching it in case something came to him.

Silence reigned but the movie on the TV.

"I got it!" He cheered, snatching the book up again as Yuuri jumped in surprise. Victor pulled his knees up to use as a desk, carefully writing in a swirly way.

_I love Katsuki Yuuri_

He beamed at Yuuri, holding it up, "See?"

The man eyes were wide at first, but softened into tender crinkles when he read the words, smiling gently, "I love you too."

Victor held out the pen, "Here, write it."

"Are you sure you want me writing in your journal?"

He nodded enthusiastically in response.

"Okay then, you asked for it."

Yuuri handed it back a moment later, pink again as he squished to Victor's side. His handwriting was less loopy, lighter and endearingly more messy.

_I love Victor Nikiforov_

With a small heart in between the two sentences.

He smiled.

If someone had told Victor two years ago that he would soon be reading those words with a heart next to them, he would've be hopeful but less than optimistic. If someone had told Victor two years ago that the love of his life would be cuddled next to him with sparkling golden rings on two pairs of hands, Victor might have even laughed.

But here he was, in the best universe he could imagine.

Yuuri yawned tiredly, head heavier on Victor's shoulder, hands rubbing on the stomach of the older man's large sweater.

"Sleepy?"

The skater nodded, pulling off his glasses and holding them out for assistance.

Victor folded them and carefully stacked the glasses, journal and pen on the nightstand. He clicked off the movie they weren't ever really watching and patted Makkachin by his thigh before turning to better hold his soon-to-be husband.

  
***

  
Victor woke up early for his run, enjoying the quiet moment in the warm rising sun. Yuuri was still sleeping beside him, arms outstretched for the man who was slowly pulling himself up.

Yuuri didn't wake as Victor stood and picked up the journal from the bedside, opening it to read the first page again.

He watched, eyes soft, the man he loved so dearly sleep without concern, breath long and gentle like the fluttering of short, dark eyelashes.

Victor clicked on the pen and began to write, scribbling away and then grabbing a post-it note when he was done.

_For my wonderful fiancee_

The younger skater still didn't stir when Victor leaned down to kiss his cheek, smiling faintly, "Sweet dreams, Yuuri."

  
***

_I belong to him, to him only; in ways I have only begun to understand._

_He holds my heart with gentleness and joy, between cracks in the both of us, between lonely moments and dark rain in the night, between fear and insecurity._

_He holds me there, against his heart, with strong, tender hands as I beat wild and uncontrollable, a constant flurry of movement and spontaneity that races through me like a hurricane._

_My heart is a fury of all things, but he is steady, his heart knows what it loves._

_My soul is only lucky that he chooses me over and over again, through injury and time apart and moments when I simply can't understand._

_He holds tightly to me, for reasons unknown, my heart is the single unit of life to him, something that rattles him to the core, something he can never seem to let go of._

_My words are useless to say why that is as valuable as the universe itself. To belong to him, to be held against his steady beating heart, is the joy of my life._

_He is the guide for my flight of ice, from now to the end of time, he shows me the world through soft, warm eyes. He has given me everything I have ever wanted in such a simple way that it makes my heart ache just to mesmerize at the complexity of love and the forms that it takes._

_He has given me everything._

_But if he asked._

_My heart wouldn't hesitate to give everything back and more._

**Author's Note:**

> You can check me out on tumblr if ya wanna:  
> @goldenlanternss
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! Kudos/comments appreciated!


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